


the long way home

by toi



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Choking, Drugs, M/M, Magical Realism, Minor Character Death, Multi, Road Trips, Work In Progress, introspective shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2018-12-20 11:40:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11920119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toi/pseuds/toi
Summary: They're going nowhere fast(it's a mood piece)





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this saved for maybe 5 months now, but it's been in my head for longer  
> listen to sunrise by taku

“It’s too bright,” Eren thinks as he looks up at the singular lamp post looming above him in the otherwise pitch black night. Bright is okay, usually, but not when your eyes are blown wide wide and every florescent watt is frying its way into your cornea. Hurts kind of good, zipping straight back into his brain. When it's all over and done maybe this is how it'll feel, like looking into a streetlamp.  
“You ever think about the apocalypse? Or like, the coming of Christ?” The words leave his mouth slower than old honey, like the kind his grandma used to keep in his cellar shelves. Pure golden stuff with dust on the outside.  
A guy looks up from between his legs, eyes also big and black, mouth open. Like a fish, Eren thinks stifling a laugh. He puts his tongue back in his mouth and huffs a heavy sigh. Hot breath hits Eren’s bare left thigh.  
“Not really”  
“Cool yeah me either,”  
There's a pause. He's waiting to gain momentum.  
“I bet it's bright you know? I bet it's bright and big and I bet none of us actually make it. And I can't believe you didn't make some dumb reference to actually cumming I gave you such a good set up.”  
“I was kind of busy.”  
The guy leans down on his forearms awkwardly and goes back to work. His eyes are closed but Eren rolls his anyways.  
The streetlight illuminates a small hoard of flies, gnats and the like. All swarming swarming tiny bodies being bathed in artificial heat. They must stay there for hours.  
“I wanna feel as good as a gnat,” He cards his fingernails through the guy’s hair, feeling the sweat and grease under the pads of his fingers, pushing him farther down, “Make me feel good.”

Later, not much later, holding 2 crumpled bills and 2 quarters in his right hand Eren crosses the street. Don't bother looking both ways, he thinks, even though his heart beats faster as he skips across the yellow lines. The bus stop is empty, who knows when the next one comes. Doesn't matter, he's got time. Lots and lots of time.  
It’s Friday night, maybe Saturday morning. Odd hours and lots of good low vibrations to keep him steady. Things are just getting started. Not that he has any particular plans. He pockets the change, hands too sweaty to hold them. Side effects.  
The guy was put off when he’d asked, of course. Instantly moody and rolling his jaw.  
“But I know you have some.”  
Not like that was a conclusion Eren had to work hard to reach. The guy stayed where he was for a moment, holding eye contact. So what if Eren was kinda bluffing. He’d already came twice and things were definitely going in his direction tonight.  
The guy had reached into a duffle bag tucked under the seat and pressed a small baggie in Eren’s hand, sending jolts of electricity through his already buzzing body. Yeah, definitely completely going my way, I could ask for anything and he’d give it to me. And then, damn I really am wired.  
“Nice thanks love you owe you one.” He was flying out the car, trying hard to bite back a face splitting grin.  
He probably thinks you're using him, half of Eren thinks, as he crunches down on the bitter white pill like it’s a skittle. But we are using him, the other half counters. It’s quiet after that because you really can't argue with that kind of logic.  
He'd been stocking up, squirrel like. Pills and powders and good old fashioned green for days when he wasn't feeling fancy. The less he paid for the better and he was good at asking nicely.  
It's not like he knew why he had the sudden compulsion to save and obsessively count and collect the things he usually injested without a second thought. It had started without him realizing. Then one day after work he was lining up all the different baggies and capsules and saw that most of his questionably colored carpet was covered. He tip toed through them, studied the way they spread out around his mattress. So much substance.  
That night Eren slept with them surrounding him, and in the morning he had woken up feeling even more off than usual. He stared at them and they stared back. He exhaled heavy and asked the universe, “Why?”  
And the universe shrugged and said, “You tell me.”  
So that led to now, somehow. He's got loads with him, tucked inside an off green backpack. Doesn't feel right to leave them at home. It's loads dangerous and stupid, Eren knows. And yet…  
There's other stuff in the backpack too. Other kinds of just in case kind of stuff. Toothbrush, phone charger, socks, tangerines, hair ties, a dictionary. Essentials.  
Eren likes to pretend he's not paranoid.  
Or that all of this is normal and he's not been amping up for something big recently. God knows what. And then there’s the deal with the money. Something he doesn’t even want to creep close to thinking about.

There’s a small wave of nausea as he dry swallowed the disintegrating pill, licking the rest of it out of the in between of his teeth, but he rides it out.  
Snowflakes flutter in front of his face close enough to touch and he waits to feel cold sprinkles reach his cheekbones. So pretty, he hums.  
But it’s spring, late spring at that. The air still has a small sharp bite but nothing hard enough to draw blood, or, snow.  
Right, he blinks. No snow here. Just specks of light reflecting against his eyes, still blown wide. “Just me and these damn insects.”  
Greedy fingers twitched inside his jacket pockets, he was practically vibrating but his brain said more, his brain said you could be better. A quick glance down the desolate street. No bus in sight. And all other excuses fly out the always partially open window.  
Except there is one, and it’s looking at him and maybe it’s been looking at him for a little while now, not that Eren would fucking know.  
“Um, are you like, alright?” The boy standing two feet from him asks.  
“Uhh,” the words get stuck in Eren’s throat like he needs to down some drain-o. Okay breathe, he doesn’t know how fucked you are, he’s just asking because...because why…?  
It occurs to Eren that he’s been smiling, ear to pink tinged ear the entire time and the boy is still looking at him except now he’s stepped a little closer and into the dull diluted light the streetlamp is giving off.  
He sees a sharp jaw, messy two toned kind of hair, a row of piercings glint under the low street lamp light. The strung out magpie part of Eren wants so badly to touch the silver hoops and crosses. His fingers twitch in his jacket pockets, like they’d wander over near the boy’s face if Eren wasn’t careful.  
He’s too close, Eren wants trace his jawline, solidify his existence, feel the way his skin would vibrate against his own. Eren’s thinking 8 thoughts a second, hardly holding on to a single one, very aware small distance between them. I wonder, he thinks, if the world stopped a while back. Or maybe I stopped and the world is spinning too fast.  
I can’t keep up either way.  
The boy has been talking, and Eren can feel the words filling the space around him, pressing against his sides.  
“-it’s just you’ve been blanked out since I came to this stop and I watched a bus pull up in and wait for you to get on and you didn’t even move you’re just kinda standing there. And smiling I guess which is kinda starting to freak me out I mean-”  
“The bus was here?”  
His voice comes out a little quiet and soft, like it hadn’t been used properly in a while. Which is odd because he got plenty of use out of it in the back of What’s His Name’s car maybe 30 minutes ago. Or was it an hour? Time came and went as it pleased these days.  
The boy across from him shut up and nodded, somewhat gravely. Eren took a deep breath in through his nose and nodded as well. He shut his eyes, continuing to nod, feeling the world move around him. Things were still going, slowly. Then something clicked.  
“Why didn’t you get on?” His voice sounded less hoarse this time. The two toned haired boy shifted awkwardly,  
“I’m not taking the bus, I’m walking to my car. Just thought it was strange that you didn’t even move when the doors opened. And when I got closer you were saying something about insects.”  
“Yeah, they’re all over.”  
“They what?”  
“They’re um,” Eren looked up into the very insect-less sky, “gone I guess.”  
They had the right idea, better follow. He gives the boy a half grin and a what-can-you-do shrug before turning on his heel and beginning to walk in the other direction. He gets exactly 4 paces before the boy calls out to him.  
“Where are you going?”  
A quick spike of annoyance strikes through Eren. Yeah the boy is hot, so hot his whole body feels drawn in but he’s off or too soft or something equally as deadly. Even Eren can see that.  
Fight or flight, rings his brain. You know what one is easier. He balls his fists up, ready to target all this strange energy at something. Except, his fingers are still shaking, weak bones he knows. So maybe not. He considers his options.  
Home? Empty rooms, boxes shoved in the corner, tv on the floor (probably not even connected), maybe 2 boxes of cereal and a couple half finished bottles of alcohol in the cabinets. Lots of orange pill bottles shoved in the back of the fridge or rattling under his bed. Small comforts in creepy places. Cold. Vacant. Home.  
No, probably not.  
Eren shimmies his shoulders, a-little-too-long bangs falling in front of his eyes, “Good question.”  
“I could,” And the boy was coming closer to him again, Eren feels his pulse jump. “I could drive you somewhere.” The boy has the audacity to look down at his shoes shyly, “If you wanted…”  
What do you want, where are you going. Why do you fucking care, Eren wants to scream. But he doesn’t and he wants to blame something, the drugs or the way this boy stands, weight distributed evenly but chest caved in.  
There’s something to it. This odd interaction in the early hours on the edge of town. Like we’re alone in the world, he thinks. But it’s all happening really fast. He doesn’t feel like letting it go just yet. Eren guesses that none of the regular rules apply.  
“Where,” He’s looking at this boy’s neck, at the thin lines of blue veins peeking from beneath the folded collar of his sweater, “are you going?”  
The boy shrugs, broad and shoulders high, twice the size of him. Probably because he fucking eats, thinks Eren.  
“I got an apartment in the city, that’s where I’m headed, but I can take you where ever.”  
Is he asking me to come home with him? Do you want to say yes?  
“Mmm,” Eren grinds his teeth together. The real question is why are you here?  
Easy boy, he says to himself, why the fuck do you care anyways. Don’t scare him away.  
“Yeah I’ll go where you’re going.”  
“Really?”  
“You’re the one who offered.”  
“Yeah I know I’m just making sure, don’t be a dick.”  
Eren grins, “But that really is my forte.”

This boy is playing The Smiths, the highway is empty and Eren’s coming down, way down, and Morrissey has both hands around his ankles. He almost cheers when he sees the cityline come into view.  
“So you don’t have anywhere particular in mind?” The boys’ hands are tense on the wheel, like they have been since Eren first sat on the black leather seating.  
Eren hums, “I’ll just get out wherever you end up at, and find my way from there.”  
Where they end up is in front of the boy’s apartment, which is about what Eren expected after seeing the quality of his car. He tries to seem unimpressed anyways.  
“So what do I owe you?” Eren asks, fumbling through his backpack. The boy has a look of pure confusion, knitting his eyebrows together, mouth brought into a small frown. There’s a beat before he speaks.  
“Nothing, I just,” And he’s looking away again, chewing on his bottom lip, “wanted to do something nice, I don’t know.”  
He’s cute, Eren thinks, and opens his mouth to ask again,  
“You sure I don’t owe you anything?” This time his hand wanders over near the boy’s knee, not touching it but close. He waits for the boy to let him close the gap. Instead the boy jerks away, begins unbuckling his seatbelt.  
“Yeah I’m sure.” Different tone now. Definitely made the wrong move there. Eren unbuckles as well and opens the passenger door.  
“Thanks anyways, I owe you one.” Like I’m ever going to see him again, Eren thinks as he slides out of the seat, backpack in hand, and into the cool morning air. 

And for a while he’s just there, wandering. It’s not like he really had a plan in the first place so he doesn’t see a need to call anyone right away. The streets are a little empty, and a little like home. Vendors using hooks to open the front of their stores, people wrapped in worn out coats sleeping on the sidewalks. Smoke and steam and neon signs being turned on. The way the sky looks before the sun touches it and how that somehow makes even the grimiest parts of the city seem good. All fresh and sharp. He curses the people dressed in neon out running at this hour.  
Eren stumbles along under hoards of gray birds, smelling the city wake up and feeling the weight of his bones.  
He feels like a cell phone, slowly losing energy, on 5% now please plug in. Two days of no sleep or any substantial food will do that to you. In the back of his head he’s wondering how long he can keep this up. This out of rhythm living. How long before he finds his way back or falls off the track completely.  
But by now he’s positively crashing and his phone is dead, of course, and he finds himself wandering back to where he dropped off. In front of the nice rich boys’ apartment. So nice but not nice enough to accept a thank you blowjob. Bet he’s the kind who doesn’t lock his car doors, he thinks, and one jolt of the backdoor handle proves him right. 

He wakes up to a sharp right turn, almost falling off the seat he’s so precariously curled upon. Engine on, car is moving. It’s possible he should be worried but he can’t find the energy to be. His eyes are dry but he watches the passing scenery out of the backseat window for a couple minutes anyways before sitting up and asking, “Where are we going?” while trying to stifle a yawn. The boy in the front seat almost drives the car off the road.  
This is how Eren ends up being screamed at on the side of a busy highway. The boy has been yelling for ten minutes straight and Eren can barely hear him over the rush of the traffic. He bets that this dude is the kind of guy to take his shirt off in a fight.  
“I bet you take your shirt off before you get into a fight.”  
“Dude what the fuck have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying? Are you fucking with me?” The boys lips curl up, exposing a long line of pearly whites. They’re sharp and that does something to him but mostly it makes him pissed as shit.  
“Are we gonna fight?” He shouts over the roar of a semi.  
The boys gives him a very serious look for a couple seconds, and then, “You are fucking with me.” Not yet dude.  
“There’s just something about your face, I can’t really place it,” He pauses thoughtfully, “ I want to punch it.”  
“If my face is so punchable then why the fuck did you sneak back into my car?”  
A minivan passes by, Eren catches sight of a kid pressed against the window wide eyed with small hands. God it's loud out here, the front of his brain feels swollen.  
“I was tired.” He puts both palms out in front of him. I surrender, there was no real reason, his brain weird logic told him there’d be no consequences. I was tired. What can you do.  
The boy runs one hand through his hair, looking pretty rough himself. He’s staring out off the overpass, at the merging and twisting lines of cars and freight trucks and heavy smog hanging above it all. Eren shivers in the constant wind.  
“I could leave you here you know.”  
Eren doesn’t doubt it. Not that he’d like to be stranded on the side of the road miles away from the city but it is a real possibility.  
“No doubt.”  
“You aren’t worried?”  
He’s been stranded worse places, maybe. Two summers ago he woke up on the roof of a highrise office building surrounded by empty bottles, with cum in his hair and acid still in his brain and fruit that was beginning to rot in the midday sun. Everyone he had been with had already ditched but at the time he wasn’t sure if anyone had been there at all. He had to count his fingers to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.  
“Not really. I’m a little more concerned for my balls if anything. It’s fuckin freezing.”  
“You’re fucking weird.”  
“Been told that. So what now?”  
“What?”  
“Where’re you going?”  
“I don’t,” The boy looks at his shoes again, “You know...” He points in the vague direction that traffic is flowing. West, maybe.  
“Going on a trip?”  
“Something like that.” He’s eyeing Eren suspiciously.  
Eren squints, taking in the long line of cars, rear lights blaring red. “You want some company?”  
The boy shakes his head, eyes not leaving the road in front of him.  
“I don’t even know you man.”  
“Yeah sure, but we got time. You don’t really want to leave me here right? And you don’t want to drive me back to where I was either, right?” So he’s bullshitting, but Eren happens to be particularly good at bullshitting. “I know I don’t look like it but I’ve got money. You won’t have to worry about me robbing you or anything.” Jean’s eyebrows shot up at, probably something he didn’t even consider. “Look look,” Eren reaches into the deep pockets of his bag, and shows him the bundles of wadded cash. “There’s more too.”  
“Christ...” Jean’s looking anxiously from the money to Eren’s face. “Where did you-”  
Eren waves his hands non-committedly, shoves the bundles back into his jacket.  
“I told you I’ve got money, come on, wherever you’re headed sounds far away and you don’t want to do that all by yourself. I’m great at killing time.”  
“Isn’t there like,” Jean seems to struggle with finding the right words but Eren knows what he’s trying to say. Isn’t there a job you need to go back to, a rent that needs to be paid, school that has coursework? Isn’t there someone you need to go back to?  
“No.” Eren answers simply.  
Jean lets out a big breath. Everything around them moving, pushing forward, going somewhere and they both know they can’t stay here long before they get swept up in the current.  
“Okay. Sure, why the fuck not.”  
They’re back in the car now. It smells like aftershave and exhaust fumes. They sit in silence. Eren’s mouth tastes of a couple different things but none of them are tangy regret. He can’t say the same for the boy in the driver's seat. The left blinker clicks on and they merge back into the stream of cars.  
Maybe it’s too early to know.

“Why West?”  
“Wanted a better view of the sunset.”  
Sounds like bullshit to Eren.  
Somewhere between where the highway narrows out and the mountains become more prominent Eren and the boy start talking. Kinda weird though, cause they’re very obviously sticking to the surface stuff and edging around the big thing. Why are you here? Why did I even ask to come? How far are we going? Even thinking them in his head feels like too much. Blank spaces after the question marks. He swallows pills with a sticky sweet gulp of the boy's energy drink with some disdain. “I can’t believe you drink Monster.”  
“I can’t believe you’d willingly swallow Redbull.”  
“I’d willingly swallow a lot of things.”  
There’s a heavy pause there, and the boy reaches for a half used pack of cigarettes kept in the glove compartment. Offers one to Eren, who says yes out of politeness. They smoke for a while, letting the stench cling to their sweatshirt sleeves. The trees grow taller and thicker in density. They’ll probably lose cell service soon and if Eren cared or had anyone to text he might be worried.  
There has to be a reason for this, Eren thinks. People like him don’t leave unless they have something they’re running away from. Whatever the reason, Eren doesn’t press it. It’ll come out when it’s ready. That’s about as zen as he gets these days.

They slept in the boy’s car that night, pulled over in a gravel off road turnaround under a tall sign advertising life insurance. Eren read the yellow lettering over and over and bit the inside of cheek hard enough to draw blood. How much would he be worth once he was dead? How would he even know. How much money was in his bank account right now? Enough. That’s what he’d been told since dad left.  
Their seats are reclined as far as they can go. Eren stares at the tan ceiling. Sleep won’t come.  
In a car he owned for a quick couple of months there had been a fat stripe of black eye liner above the passenger seat. A product of a night he and a couple of other guys had attempted to do full make overs in a parking lot around the back of the financial district.  
Attempted was the key word. It had been hard to see with all the smoke and lack of space and limbs stretched out everywhere covered in tight denim and leather asking if this shade of red was suited to their skin tone.  
He’d crashed the car not too long after while trying to eat yogurt and turn up a Bowie song as loud as it could go. Is there life on mars? Is there? He never watched the news.  
Eren tried to fit as much of his body as he could under the small blanket the boy had given him.  
“Hadn’t been expecting company,” Was all the boy had said as he tossed Eren the cheap polyester blanket. When he unfolded it the creases stayed. Cold was seeping in from outside the car. His ankles were like ice.  
The boy in the seat next to him was sleeping, his shoulders rising and falling. He was just a dark outline, Eren was trying to fill in the blanks.  
Every so often an occasional car drove by, a low sweep of headlights barely illuminating the cabin of the car, rush of noise and then gone. Ground control to Major Tom. How did he end up here.


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long long overdue, trying to update more regularly but absolutely no promises   
> Ahead: names exchanged, and half hearted deep weed talk

Morning. Pale grey haze. It took Eren a second to remember why he was curled up in the passenger seat of a car, positively shivering.   
“Breakfast.” He croaked before he even opened his eyes. There was no response from the other boy.   
“Hey hey,” He jabbed the boy in his side, “I want some fucking food and also I don’t know your name.”  
“God shut up. ‘S too early.”  
“You gonna invite me on your cross country road trip and not even tell me your name? Guess they really don’t teach rich kids manners these days.”  
“Jean. Now stop talking.”  
“Uh uh, I like need food. Hey Jean you hear me? I need food. I’m dying.”  
“Hopefully.” Jean swatted a hand in Eren’s general direction.   
“Aren’t you gonna ask me?”  
There’s a long pause before Jean decides to reply. Eren pokes at the boy’s side once more for good measure.   
“Ask you what?”  
“My name, dumb ass.”  
“No.”  
“What? You aren’t curious at all? That’s what’s dumb, you’re lying you want to know.”  
Jean rolls over so he’s facing Eren, blanket up to his nose and eyes rimmed red.  
“Okay fuck. What’s your name?”  
“Eren”  
“Eren,” The other boy repeated, “Can you fuck off for a bit while I try to sleep for a little while longer.”

They stop at a diner with red vinyl seats in the booths and fake flowers on the tables. Eren is still getting used to the boy he’s with having a name. Jean. French, apparently. And spelled a way he wouldn’t guess.   
“So,” Eren says between bites of his unlimited stack of pancakes, “You never really answered where we were going.” There was an appetite today, a strange emptiness that came with skipping the morning pill routine.   
“I dunno, I just wanted to see the ocean.”  
“Huh, why?  
“None of your damn business.”  
“Sure, I guess. Just kind of funny, I’ve never been.”   
Jean doesn’t believe him, obviously. It’s not like the ocean was a world away. It’s not like there was some crazy impossible reason that he had never been. He just hadn’t. Eren moved a lot, but always more east or north, never toward the coast. There wasn’t a reason to it. He hadn’t really cared either way.  
“But don’t you like, feel like you’re missing out on something?"  
“I’ve been to the pool Jean, and I don’t know, lakes.”  
Jean looks at Eren like there’s something seriously wrong with him. Eren pours more syrup on his pancakes.

The roads ahead are long, snake like, the forest thick. An undetermined amount of hours, days, weeks, hung above them. Bears, nightfall, thin tires easily popped by sharp debris. Eren chews on a jagged thumbnail. Relax, relax. You wanted this right. What if they drove in and were swallowed whole, car and all? Two humans, small, defenseless and made soft by houses, beds and paved roads, wouldn’t last long. He imagines dying slow, stomach torn open by rusty parts of the car, windshield glass piercing through his forehead at 75 miles an hour. Or falling into a comatose state of hunger while laying alone on the cold dirt ground.   
Jean accelerates, changing lanes to pass another car. There are barely any around here.   
Could Jean be taking him somewhere remote to kill him? No one knows they’re together, nothing connects them at all. Eren’s eyes follow the way Jean taps the steering wheel to the beat of something rough and jazzy. The volume is low. Would Eren want it? There would be no way he could fight Jean off, but he could run, probably not for long. Just far enough to hide between the dark masses of trees, laying tense, ears ringing, listening; hyper aware of every nature noise, a soft rustle of leaves, a deep exhale, someone getting closer…  
It’s early afternoon, but the sky sings of evening time.

Jean squints at the horizon.   
“Clouds are coming in.”  
10, 15 miles, a good chunk of silence later, the rain hits hard. Loud, like Eren wants to cover his ears. Jean’s cursing under his breath, windshield wipers on as fast as they can go.   
“Can’t see for shit with this weather. Makes me anxious.” Eren watches him naw on the dry skin of his bottom lip.  
“Do you want to take a break?”  
“Huh?” Jean asks without averting his eyes from the road. “Where?”  
Eren leans forward to peer out the window, “I think I see a turnoff off this road up ahead. It’s all farmland around here, no one’s gonna care if we just park it for a little while.”   
Jean stayed quiet for a couple seconds considering his options. In the distance there was a faint roll of thunder.   
The boy flicks on the right turn signal and guides the car onto the turnoff. Dirt crunches under the tires. Tall grass grew on either side of the road. A break of space in the trees. It looked like hay to Eren, but it was the wrong color. He thought about it for a second. It probably was hay, but before it got picked and put into those white marshmallow type bags.   
Eren whistles, “Damn we’re really fucking far out here.”  
They follow the road until the sound of passing traffic could only just barely be heard over the rain. In the far distance are mountains, blue and half hidden under low hanging clouds.  
“So,” Jean leans back in his seat, stretching his hands above his head so that they touch the roof. “What now?”   
Eren roots around his back pack for a second until his hand closes around the cloth zippered pouch he was looking for.   
“I got just the thing to cure your anxiety.”  
“A bag?”  
“No dumb ass, it’s what’s inside the bag. We can burn some and talk for a little while.”  
Jean raises an eyebrow, stares suspiciously at joints in Eren’s hand, “You wanna talk with me?”  
“I always want to talk when I’m stoned so don’t take it personally. And it beats all this fucking silence.”   
The other boy hummed, rolling his neck as he did. “Yeah, can’t argue with that.”  
“Exactly. Could you be a dear and pass me your lighter?”  
He could feel Jean watching him out of the corner of eye, while he pretended to be busy combing his hands through his hair.   
He blew smoke in Jean’s direction just to piss him off, but Jean did nothing more than roll his eyes and hold out his hand for the lit joint. Rain partnered against the roof of the car. Eren watched streams of water zig zag across the windshield.   
“Did you ever pretend that the raindrops were racing down the window? You know, when you were little?”   
Jean nods, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. “Yeah, kept me entertained on road trips.” He hands the joint to Eren.  
“I went on so many of those when I was younger. Felt like we were always fucking moving someplace.” Eren pauses to inhale. “Still feel that way.”   
“Are you just saying that because we’re on the road right now?”   
“Dunno, maybe? I just meant like, I never feel permanent.”   
Jean’s rubbing his lips together and staring at the still swirling clouds above them. Laying back in the front seats feels a lot more comfortable now than it did last night.   
“Funny feeling like that. Can’t make plans, long term ones, for shit cause I never know where the fuck I’m going.”   
“Guess I’m the opposite.” Jean reaches over to swipe at the smoke Eren exhales. Like a cat, Eren thinks. “Always had so much planned out, solid shit, like a map. But things never followed the lines the way they were supposed to. I can’t deal when things just happen out of nowhere. I blame my parents I think.”   
A smile pulls at the corners of Eren’s mouth. “Don’t we fucking all.”  
Jean rolls the white stick back and forth between his middle finger and his thumb.   
“Oh yeah? What do you blame your parents for?”  
The insides of Eren’s brain are fuzzy, tongue feeling heavy. How to answer that without prying open too much.  
“How much you want to know about me?”   
“I don’t know, how much do feel comfortable sharing?”   
An unexpectedly considerate question.  
“I mean all parents fuck up their kids right? Even if its massive or unintentional it happens.” Jean nods vigorously.   
“And it wasn’t intentional, at least I don’t think so. My dad, he liked booze, and couldn’t keep anything close to him. Not a bad guy but not a good one either. My mom…she was there one day and then she just wasn’t.”   
He could feel Jean looking at him while he sucked in a breath of smoke.   
“It happened really fast. And after mom was gone so was my dad. Almost like they were never there in the first place. It was just me and my sister. We did alright.”   
Immediately Eren wants to punch himself for being so terribly depressing.   
“They weren’t bad people but I don’t think they were people who should have had kids.”

Jean’s sitting up to look at the rain hitting the windshield. “I get that,” Streaks of sunlight are beginning to break through the clouds. “I think.”  
“You don’t have to get it.”   
Jean leans forward so that his forearms are resting on the steering wheel. “But I want to, I guess.”   
Nice guy.  
Eren grabs Jean’s elbow, pulling him down flat on his back so he can look him in the eye. “This whole time I thought you were really self absorbed.”   
“...Thanks.”   
“You’re welcome.”

They laid plastered against the reclined seats, talked shit about mundane topics, managed to burn through more weed than Eren originally planned on smoking.   
Jean asked what Eren’s favorite color was. Eren asked what Jean’s favorite food was. Jean hated bugs and had an aversion to seafood as a result of an allergic reaction when he was a kid. Eren loved heights and had broken his arms more times than he could count because of reckless dares and once because of arm wrestling match that escalated quickly. Jean had snuck into a rock concert when he was 16 only to get escorted out by security 15 minutes later. Eren has never been to a wedding.   
Neither of them asked about funerals.   
At some point the rain sound dies out. Eren sits up and takes in the grey scale of the outside world. The inside world wasn’t much different.   
“Its so fucking smokey in here I can’t see your fucking face.” Jean says from inside the cloud.   
“That’s a damn shame because you are definitely missing out on a good view.”   
Jean lets out a halfhearted chuckle, “You swear more when you’re high.”   
“You talk even more than when you’re sober.”   
“Can we get out of here? I need to breathe air that hasn’t been recycled through our systems like, multiple times.”   
Through the smoke Jean makes some sort of movement that Eren takes to be a nod of agreement.   
They open their doors, musky scented smoke pouring out of either side. Eren imagines it carrying across the fields for miles.   
He stumbles out of the car, still gripping the door for fear that he’d lose his balance. “Huh,” He tried to muster up some saliva. “Seems like I’m way higher than I thought.”   
“Yeah,” Jean is suddenly beside him, “Standing up was a mistake.”   
The field stretching out in front of them waves in the breeze like an off-green sea, grass all the way up to their knees still wet from the rainstorm. Not sunny, just specks of light peeking out behind the clouded sky, wind oddly warm and just strong enough to blow his jacket off his shoulder.   
Jean’s hair dancing in front of his eyes, he was looking at the moving grass. A lazy grin sat on his face. A kind of longing there, too. He’s close enough to feel body heat. For a single sick second he’s overcome with the urge to rest his head on Jean’s shoulder.   
Instead he elbows Jean as hard as he can in the ribs and takes off running straight into the grassy field. Behind him Jean yelps in pain, “What the fuck Eren?”   
Eren doesn’t have to turn around to know he’s chasing after him.  
They both run into the deep of it all, grass swarming in every direction. Sneakers getting soaked through and Eren knows he's going to have to deal with wet socks later.   
Jean’s hand lands square in the center of his back and Eren pitches forward. His arms instinctively shooting out to break his fall, feet kicking out behind him. Feet that Jean somehow trip over. He lands on his shoulder, legs tangled in Eren’s.   
“You pushed me?” The palms of Eren's hands are stinging and red from the impact.  
Jean rolls on his back, cursing. “I didn't think it through. Fuck my shoulder.”  
“That's karma.”   
“That's supposed to come in the next lifetime idiot.”   
“I'm not religious I don't know these things.”


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small stuff, a day or two further into the trip, more drugs, a little bit o romance

In the empty aisles of the supermarket Eren fills his basket with all things too sweet and salty and artificially colored. They'd driven late into the night, finally pulling off past one of the green sign exits. The long hours of constant interior were driving Eren stir crazy and being in different surroundings felt like a high. Lots of bright crunchy plastic. A redbull for him, a monster for Jean.   
He pauses by the small wilted produce section, and adds a one pound bag of carrots to the pile. This one’s for you, sister.  
At the register he asks for a pack of marlboros because Jean must be low on his by now and he’d rather not deal with an even more irritable, nicotine deprived version of that guy.   
Jean is already done filling up the gas tank when he comes out. His hands are tapping on the dashboard, antsy antsy.  
Like they have a deadline to make. Like they even know where they’re going.   
Eren swings open the passenger door and chucks the pack of marlboros at Jeans face in one fluid motion.   
“Shit what is with you throwing shit in my face?”   
“Your spring looks sprung.”   
“Uh, maybe, whatever the fuck that means…” The pack of cigarettes are in Jean’s hand and he’s realised what he’s holding and is looking at Eren with something close to affection but closer to suspicion.   
“How’d you know my brand?”   
They’ve been driving together for a couple of days now and Jean isn’t exactly a casual smoker. Kinda. In the first day he mentioned that he only smokes frequently when he’s stressed, leaving the door open for Eren to ask exactly what’s up his chain smoking butt. He doesn’t ask, that’d be going into dangerous territory.   
Jean eases the car out from the gas station and back onto the main road. It’s pretty obvious that he’s waiting for some kind of response from Eren but at the moment Eren is preoccupied thinking about how he likes the way Jeans hands cradle a cigarette between his long fingers. Or the way he lets the smoke fall from his mouth. Bet his mouth tastes like an ashtray, he thinks. Dangerous territory indeed.  
The turn signals small clicks bring him back to the present. Jean is giving him a weird side eye. Eren shrugs.  
They’re on the highway now, leaving the small rows of short gray buildings and primary colored fast food eateries in the rearview mirror.  
“Show some appreciation!” Eren rips open a package of sour gummy straw, shoves two in his mouth and points one in Jean’s general direction, “Cigarettes aren’t cheap ya know.”   
“Neither is 5 pounds of candy, seriously how much of this shit did you buy?”   
“Enough to last me a couple hours. Anyways at least say thank you when someone buys you a present.”  
Jean scrunches his mouth to the side while fiddling with the radio, lots of static and fuzzy country music in these parts.   
“I didn’t ask you to get me a present dumbass.”  
“Ohmygod,” Eren snatches the cigarettes from Jean’s lap and rolls down the passenger seat window, “You want me to throw these out the fucking window? Because I will Jean I swear to god.”  
“Why are you always so dramatic Jesus it’s not a big deal hey hey wait-”   
In no time at all Eren has his seat belt undone, the pack of cigarettes and half his body out the window.  
“What the fuck are you doing get back in the car!”  
“SAY THANK YOU FIRST,” Eren shouts over the wind, thoroughly enjoying the horror on Jean’s face as he tries to watch the road, eyes darting over to Eren every couple of seconds. Nice look, better up the stakes. He grabs onto the assist handle and pulls himself so he’s sitting out the window. Right arm stretched straight out, jacked billowing behind him.  
“EREN I’M GOING 65 ON A HIGHWAY I CAN’T SLOW DOWN OR PULL OVER GET BACK IN THE CAR.”  
“WHY DON’T YOU TRY ASKING NICELY?” He leans out farther. Flying must feel like this, he thinks, eyes closed. Flying probably feels better. When he was younger he often had dreams that he could fly, soaring through and over tops of tall tall trees. Always got the feeling that he was running away from something, even back then.   
“EREN PLEASE GET BACK IN THE CAR BEFORE I MURDER YOU MYSELF.”  
“AND WHAT ELSE?”  
“THANK YOU.”   
“See,” Eren slides back into his seat, smoothing out his wind blow hair, cheeks pink and tingling, “was that so hard?”  
Jean stays silent for a couple seconds, knuckles almost white clutching the steering wheel. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”   
“Manners are serious shit, I’m willing to stake my life on that.” He opens the pack of cigarettes and lights one, takes a drag. “Hey,” He’s wiggling the lit cigarette in front of Jean’s face. “You want one or not?”   
Jean doesn’t look at him as he grabs at the cigarette, “You really are a suicidal bastard.”

Sweat’s clinging to Eren’s head like it’s a lifeline. And maybe he would go shower again but he really can’t afford to use any energy right now. Just gotta wait. Maybe 20 minutes. He grinds his teeth together trying not to focus on the kink in his neck. Maybe less. The refrigerator hums loud and steady.   
The door to their room opens, sunlight slices across the floor and into Eren’s eyes. He hisses.   
“The fuck are you doing?”   
Eren has dead eyes, and gestures limply to his sweaty body, “What does it look like?”   
“Looks like you’re practically naked with your head in the mini fridge.” Jean says it in a way that suggests it’s one of the least impressive things he’s ever seen. Not that Eren is trying to impress anybody.   
“I’m melting,” He pauses and decides to clarify, “I’m rolling. Or I’m about to be. Maybe 15 minutes. Give or take like, 5.”   
“I leave for a fuckin hour…”   
“Yeah I know self control, my virginity and other things I don’t have let’s not focus on it too much ok.”   
Jean gives him a ‘fair enough’ kind of nod. They’d probably get more into it but Jean isn’t in the mood and Eren is counting down the minutes until he’s in a different place entirely. It’s the weather probably. They stopped at a motel only 4 turns off the main highway, pooled together some money, Jean paid for more than half. It had been the first shower he’d taken in, 3 maybe 4 days? Enough time for his hair to cycle from greasy to dry to part way greasy again. He didn’t want to think about it for too long. Not that it mattered now with all the sweating.  
"Can we get out of here?” Eren’s voice reverberates in the white plastic inside of the fridge.  
“What you want me to drag your drugged up ass someplace?”   
“You wanna kill a little time? Best way to do it.”   
Jean fiddles with the hem of his shirt. “Don’t know man, I don’t do this shit like, often.”  
“Yeah and neither do I.”  
The lie sits heavy in the silence. Jean shifts his weight from foot to foot, taking in the shabby interior of their small motel room. One large window with a grand view of the parking lot, faded floral curtains, fake wooden side table with a bible and a small brass lamp sitting on top, a single twin bed and then Eren, on the stained carpet and head in the sorry excuse for a fridge. The humidity is obscenely oppressive.   
“Put some clothes on first ok.”  
Eren nods, it’s definitely the weather.  
Jean drove them somewhere a little farther than the outside of town. Eren bounced along to the music and ran his hands all down the leather interior of the car and across the black dust free dashboard. All those buttons and small lights. Jeans hand resting on the clutch. Touch touch touch. His mouth watered.   
“You feel in good?”   
“Ya good stuff light fluff like if you cut me open that’s all that would pour out.”   
“Eren,” Jean paused as he took a left turn, “I never have any fucking idea what you’re talking about.”   
“Right. I love that.”  
For a second Jean opens his mouth, eyes crinkled, like he was going to say something stupid or careless, but caught himself and left it silent. Eren continued tracing the lines of his seatbelt wondering if they’d ever be able to say things that mattered without knowing it would hurt more later.  
“Came out somewhere around here a while back with a friend,” Jean says. He takes two pills from Eren’s open hand and pops them in his mouth. Winces as the bitter taste spread across his tongue. Eren tries not to think too much about the way the word “friend” left Jean’s mouth. Carefully. Cautious.   
“And here I thought you were all narrow straight and good, well…” Eren smiles brightly, like he’s capable of doing anything else. “Maybe not the straight part”   
Jean shoves him halfheartedly, digging around the back for a discarded water bottle. “You ready?”   
“Legs weak arms spaghetti,” But Jean is already out of the car before Eren can finish talking. “Or whatever.”   
They cross the street in silence.   
“Ya know,” Eren says thoughtfully, feeling a burst of serotonin, “gnats really brought us together.”   
“Gnats huh, you sure it wasn’t you being too high to catch the bus properly?”   
Eren shook his head, “No it as the gnats. I’m very sure about these things.” He tapped his head, “Some things are clearer than others.”   
The warehouse, large and dark and damp like the inside of a womb. Bass pounding, and serotonin exploding across the front part if Eren’s brain. He's dancing hard, the only way he knows how. Jean’s doing his best. Strangers mesh around them, pushing and pulling them apart but they're never too far for too long. The boundaries between Eren and everyone else have dissolved.   
One being, moving, feeling.   
Then Jean is close again, pulling Eren away from the mob. Collapsing against a sticky wall.  
“I feel like I'm being reborn.”  
Who said it? Either. Both. They're smiling, wide and manic.   
“Where do I begin?” Jean’s chest heaving and colored pink.  
“Where do we end?”   
“Let's go.”  
“We’re always going.”  
“Do you want to stay?”  
The music suddenly feels too loud. 

They leave out through the alleyway, it stinks of garbage and piss. Above them the streetlamps burns out any views of the night sky. Their clothes are sweaty and stuck to their skin, hands somehow finding each other. With every step Eren’s feet ache. He’s never felt better.   
They wander. Both hours away from sobriety and not caring in the least.   
Dark streets, power lines criss crossing and stringing together tall cluttered apartment buildings all brown and air conditioners stuck in windows, plants on top of that. People sleeping in blacked out squares and dim lights casting shadows out, soft movements of those still awake blurred by thick curtains.   
The cold of spring night, something that can’t really be placed anywhere else. Heat from their bodies and laughter lighting them up from the inside. Fingernails tracing up goosebumped forearms. Fuck coats.   
Eren pushing Jean against the side of a building, running hands down his torso. Shivering. Moving, somewhere else, here isn’t good. Pull on hands.   
Running down the middle of the street because they can. Jean is breathless, “I’m so happy.”  
With you, Eren thinks. The steady beat of their shoes against the pavement.   
With you with you with you.   
A park, how did we even find this? Metal bars and yellow slide calling out to them. An invasion of childhood memories. Eren shrugs off their plastic aftertaste. Not now, he thinks.   
They race to the swings, Eren wins. Jean pushes him, square in the back as Eren pumps his knees and thinks for the millionth time how much he loves flying. Eren jumps, just to get a taste of it, soars for a good second yelling loud. Hits the wood chips and tries not to fall on his face.  
Somewhere behind him Jean can’t stop laughing, his mouth wide in a perfect O shape.   
Eren, not even consciously moving, just giving in to the natural gravitational pull between them.   
Tension tension.   
Jean throwing his head back to laugh and Eren catching a glimpse of his teeth.   
Sick addiction.  
Eren puts his finger to his lips.  
“If we’re quiet we can pretend that the world doesn’t know we’re here.”  
Jean whispers back, “We don’t have to pretend that.”   
“What are we doing here?”   
Jeans arms flop to the sides, “Who the fuck knows”   
“No, I mean like…why are we here in the first place.”   
Jean’s opting to look at the dotted highway in the distance.   
Eren been meaning to ask for a while, as the days meshed together something else seemed to grow unfurled in his stomach. He needed to purge it.   
“Hey Eren,” Jeans kicking at the grass, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “You still owe me one remember?”   
It takes Eren a hot second, brain feeling blurry. But it’s Jean’s eyes that really make things click. They sweep across the black sky, Eren’s lips and eyes in that order.   
He drops to his knees, “I thought you’d never ask.”   
He could give Jean shit about this, he could what all of that denying and pretending was all for in the first place but he’s eye level with Jean’s already half hard cock and his hands are actually shaking as he fumbles with his belt.  
The grass is damp and already slightly soaking through the denim covering his knees. A surefire recipe for grass stains.  
Mikasa used to question where he got grass stains so frequently. Blood on his teeth and bruises on his arms came as no surprise but the constant presence of green splotches on his pants always concerned her. That was back when things were simple.   
“You alright down there?”   
There must be something on Eren’s face that screams no but he’s trying to play it off.  
“Yeah, just thinking about my sister.”   
Jean looks down at him, slightly horrified, eyebrows knitted in obvious confusion.   
“She lives really far away now.” Eren adds, like it even matters. “It doesn’t matter.” He mouths at the hardness of Jean’s dick through his boxers.   
“So are you gonna let me pay you back or what?”   
Laughs at Jean’s lightning fast nod in confirmation.   
“Come on,” Eren leans back, licking his lips, “I want you to feed it to me.”


End file.
